Captain Who? The Face Of Boe?
by YouGottaSingAlong
Summary: Through frequent time travelling, much of Jack's personal chronology is confused. I have attempted to detangle this mess into something that makes sense-or not-and my own versions of mentioned event in his history, snippets of Doctor Who included. Janto
1. Boeshane Peninsula

_A/N: "Captain Who? Face Of Boe?" is of course named in question to Russell T Davies, what's Jack's real name? It irritates me more than not knowing the Doctor's name._

_Disclaimer: I don't own Jack or Doctor Who or Torchwood in any shape, way or kind. Mayer and Harmon are my OCs._

A middle aged man who had quietly being making smores on the campfire as his two boys played ball started at the screeching warning siren that rang through the area. Harmon jumped to his feet, grabbing his eldest son, who strained to hear over the siren, the anxious words his father yelled, "Boe.... get.... out.... run... grab Gray..... your mother.... I need.... find her... don't stop.... run..."

The boy grabbed his brother's hand, "Run, Gray, Dad's getting Mum, but we've gotta get out of here." He heard screaming from the Peninsula, panicking he began running as fast as he could. Through the trees and forests across the bridge, as far away from the flashing lights, the invaders, the screams, just getting him and Gray as far away... He skidded to a halt. Gray, he had let go of Gray. He glanced around, it was dark, he could barely see farther than five metres, "_Gray._" He hollered into the depths of the night.

Retracing his steps slower, but without caution he continued bellowing, "_Gray. Gray, where are you? _I didn't mean to let go, Gray. Gray." He did this until he reached a stone platform that looked out over the sandy terrain that led to the Boeshane. He gasped as a shot of fire burst through the air and the invaders left.

The boy stopped outside town, on a poster at the entrance to the town he saw his face ripped down the middle, the Face of Boe, plastered across the country, but here, ripped apart alongside the rest of the burning town. He made his way through the bodies littered across the area, towards his house. He looked at the body lying on the floor, Harmon, his features fixated in a twisted expression of horror and fear, drying blood ran down from his eyes and nose, just out of reach from his hand lay a compact deluxe laser. Boe picked it up, slipping it down the back of his trousers, before grasping his father's hand, "Dad, I'm sorry, I lost Gray, we were running, but I don't know where I lost him, I wasn't thinking. I'm sorry Dad."

He wept.

-------

"The Face of Boe" as he was now called by everyone through introducing himself as Boe, spat in the alien's face. "You're scum."

The creature ignored him, pointing at Boe's companion with a snarl, "Thziz one ish weaker, let the othzer watch him die. Ash he mizshed his fathzer's deathz."

Boe struggled against the chains that held him, "No, leave him, take me. No. Leave him alone. _Mayer_. I'm sorry. I'm..."

Mayer screamed out in pain, Boe watched in horror but despite the dear wish, could not look away as he watched his friend's, his friend that he had made join him, his friend's mind disintegrate.

------

Boe sat beside Mayer, he kissed the man's forehead, and stood up, "I'm sorry, Mayer." _I'm sorry, Father_.

Boe grabbed his jacket and left, he had not found Gray after all this time, he would never see his brother again, he had failed his father in the last instruction given to him. He had lost too much in the years from his father's murder. He would not lose any more.

"Hi, yes, I want to join..... I'm Harmon's son." Boe strode purposefully towards the exit.

_Please review. Please._


	2. The Time Agency

_A/N 1: These chapters are all going to be relatively short, which is deliberate as there are some gaps I'm not filling but may if there is an explanation or more clues given on Doctor Who or Torchwood._

_A/N2: Let's do a quick recap on names. If I use the name "Facey", "Boey", Boey-boy", "Boe", "Shane", "Jack", "Captain", the previous two together, or "Harkness", I mean "Jack Harkness"._

_Disclaimer: I don't own any Doctor Who or Torchwood characters/concept, I do own Reilly, Weatherly and Murray._

"One hundred and thirtieth second week, Boey-boy," Hart called out cheerily, "Bacon and eggs for break-y, do you want toast with that?"

Boe rolled off of his bed, landing with a thump on the floor, "Yes. God, these loops really give you a headache when you work out what the hell's going on."

He grabbed a comb and began running it through his hair. It caused his hair to straighten out in a greasy slick, "Yuck, Hart, I'm going to wash, this happens every morning."

"Well if you'd showered when I told you to you wouldn't wake up every second week with a disgusting mop of oily tresses." Hart continued busying himself with breakfast.

Boe groaned, "Funny, Hart, you're funny, did I mention that I'm getting sick of that."

"Well I'm getting sick of you."

"Don't worry, that makes two of us." Boe hollered as hot water jetted from the shower. Hart laughed as he flipped the breakfasts onto plates. "Get a move on."

Boe emerged from his shower wearing only a towel, and sat down at the table. "So what are you doing today?"

"Same as I've done for the last one hundred and thirty todays- Boe, put some clothes on..."

"You don't usually have a problem with it."

"I do when I'm eating. Change."

-------

"Reilly, come see this." The Doctor leaned over a screen in the TARDIS frowning gently. "What would you say that is?"

He pointed at a hazy spiralling loop on the monitor. Reilly McLeod leant in on it, "I don't know, it could be..."

"...chronic hysteresis." The Doctor stated. Reilly rolled her eyes.

"Exactly what I was going to say."

"Really?"

"No. What's chronic hysteresis?"

"A time loop is a loop in time..."

Reilly mumbled irritated, to herself, "I could have guessed a time loop is a loop in time."

"... In which the individuals are always experiencing the same events in an endless loop. When you think about it, you must get really bored."

"Are we going to do anything about it?"

"Just, wait... Yes, there's life in there."

Reilly leant back in looking at the blurred image, "Doctor, I think we should leave them."

"Why?"

"I just do..." Reilly cringed at the Doctor's oblivious manner.

"Give me one good reason..." He trailed off glancing at the screen. "Ah, yes. Maybe... to break it might take a while to set up."

------

Boe headed out into the backyard to tend to his tomato plants, in two weeks they would be big, beautiful and..."Edible." Boe groaned his mouth watering. Suddenly there was a lurch that caused him to sprawl across the ground. Hart leaned out the window, "Boe! Are you alright?"

"Yeah," He brushed dirt off his jacket. "What was that-?"

A second lurch threw Hart out on top of Boe, who grinned, "As much as I'd-"

The two men were blasted apart; the last thing Boe saw before he blacked out was a man who mouthed the word, "Captain."

------

The Time Agency had always been a bad idea, but the Peninsula had been so proud of him when he had got in. For years he had been planning on leaving, it appeared he had been planning on leaving for two years longer than he had thought. Boe stormed into the head office of the Agency pinning his boss against the wall, "I want my life back."

"Shane, you have your life. You were brought up-"

"You know what I'm talking about. There's _two years _of my life missing, and I want to know where they've gone."

"Shane, you know I can't..."

"_Bullshit_."

"No-"

Boe was grabbed from the back by two Agents, his boss straightened his shirt, "Shane, I know you're angry," He held up his hand. "But if you can't control yourself, I'm going to have to ask you to leave."

"With pleasure," Boe spat.

"I'm going to need your watch." He held out his hand.

"I don't have it."

"_What_?"

"I gave it to some guy on the street for ninety bucks."

"Get it back." His boss spoke through gritted teeth. "Murray, go with him."

Murray nodded. The other agent Weatherly let go, and stayed beside the boss as Murray and Boe left. The men watched from the large glass window of Canary Wharf II, as at the bottom Boe walked up to a man sitting on the steps and slipped him something. Murray started forward to grab Boe, who swung round punching the other man before disappearing. The boss turned in anger to the agent at his side. "Find him. _And don't dare come back until you have_."

Weatherly cursed his luck and left the room.

_The next couple of chapters will focus on Jack's escapades as a con-man before hooking up with the Ninth Doctor and Rose._

_**Please review.**_


	3. Jack Harkness

_Disclaimer: I do not own Doctor Who or any of its related guff. _

_A/N: Any West Wing watchers out there, look out for Weatherly's rant. Also, this chapter's quite short, I promise the next will be longer._

Boe met with his main dealer, a dimwit from the Damion Sector, who did not see the value in any object. Including money. He walked over to her, clapping her back, "Elisiazontrabiacho.... Can I call you Elise?"

"If you must, _Malcolm_." She held out her clawed hand. "Money."

"Patience, Elise, I want to see the product first, that thing's gotta make it to Earth."

"Money."

He flicked out a cash book and removed several notes in about eighteen different currencies, rolling his eyes he handed it over. "Happy."

She nodded, "Now come see."

The product Boe was purchasing was a small, sleek Chula spacecraft, fitted for human use. "Does it turn invisible?" He asked while checking out the boosters at the back.

"Yes. I have other deals to work with."

"I totally understand. I'll take her off your hands then." He gave his signature charming grin.

Clapping his hands together he stepped into the pilot bay. He had already collected payment from the "gentleman", a Robert Van Statten that he was delivering to. He planned on docking it above London in 1941, during the Blitz. It would, of course, not be his fault if anything happened to it, "Computer, I need to insure this ship for potential damage on Sol 3, Earth."

---------

Docking above London he leant back yawning.

"Computer, find me a free human alias. Early 1900s."

"Group Captain Jack Harkness, American volunteer in Wales to the Royal Air Force, death date: 21st January 1941, cause of death: air combat protecting Cardiff from a bombing raid."

"Jack" flipped a switch. "That'll do. So I'm Yankee. I can do that. Change records to report Jack Harkness as "missing"." He gave the switchboard an admiring glance. "Pity you're gonna be destroyed really... Jack," he appeared to roll the name around, "Jack. That's a good name. I like that. Jack Harkness. Captain Jack Harkness, protecting the skies of Earth." He gave out a maniacal laugh. _I've been hanging out with myself for too long_. "Do I have somewhere I should be, as Harkness?"

-----------

Weatherly crashed into a man in a pinstriped suit that he met on the stairs of the building, despite the look of black thunder that would have had most men running a mile. Weatherly had a family that he would like to see again someday, but with a price on his head he could not return to his own time without the other agent's watch, Weatherly grabbed the man's shoulders, "Sorry, but... Is he still alive...? Is the head....? Is he still alive?"

The other man shook his head. Weatherly continued on up, praying that the man was wrong. When he reached the top the first thing he saw was the cracked glass and the unmoving face lying on the ground, ignoring the Novice, Weatherly strode up, tears of anger and grief streaming down his face, and kicked the great cranium.

"No, shit, crap, you motherfucking bastard, Shane, bastard. Fucking life wrecker. Damn you and your fucking watch. Why? Fuck you. Damn you. Cursed is the ground for your sake. Son of a bitch. Shane."

Tears still streaking down his face, Weatherly knelt down looking up into the skies, past the cars. Into the heavens. "Gratias tibi ago, domine. I have a family, a family I'm not supporting now. My wife was pregnant. I already had two kids. Haec credam a deo pio, a deo justo, a deo scito? What did I do? I did my duty. For my world, for my family. Cruciatus in crucem, eas in crucem."

Weatherly's hands shook as they cradled his head, groaning he hauled himself upright. Uttering bitterly. "I hate time travel. What is the point when you can't change anything bad. Tempus edax rerum, hinc illae lacrimae."

_I know you're reading this, so review. Please review, pretty please.  
_


	4. Meeting Friends

_Disclaimer: This chapter basically is the BBC's in that they controlled the events the speech (or most of it, I did make a few additions), basically this is Jack's involvement in "The Empty Child", making it largely speech. I don't own Doctor Who, nor am I affiliated in any way with the BBC. It sucks._

He had been hanging around the 20th Century military teams for over three weeks now. Just integrating an socialising while he waited for the explosion. Jack checked through his binoculars, grinning, _A Union Flag on a t-shirt_, _I want one of those_, he considered it, _although I wouldn't mind one of _those_ either._

"Jack, you going down to the shelter?" Algie, a British officer walked up behind him. "Only, I've got to go off on some damnsly guard duty."

Not really listening Jack missed the next sentence vaguely tuning back in for the end of the other man's sentence, "... Must have come loose. It happens now and then. Don't you RAF boys use it for target practise?"

Jack zoomed in, "Excellent bottom." He remarked.

The other officer, misunderstanding turned back towards Jack, "... there's a time and a place. You should really be off."

Jack finally turned, relinquishing grasp on his binoculars and laughed, "Sorry, old man, I gotta go meet a girl." He began moving off, "But you have an excellent bottom too."

Jack after leaving the room broke into a sprint to get to the ship, stopping he checked his wrist, "Stuff this." He tapped a button lightly and dematerialised out of the hall.

Flexing his wrists he activated the beam, catching the woman in a blue beam, hearing her yelp out he smirked, activating the com system. "Okay, okay, I've got you."

Her cockney voice came back through in a gasp, "Who's got me? And you know, how?"

The computer began talking, Jack spun on his seat answering, "She's not from around here, no."

Speaking out to the woman again he called, "Ready for you. Hold tight."

Obviously coming back to herself a bit she answered, "To what."

He pulled the lever, "Fair point."

Jack positioned himself where he knew she would beam in, catching her, "I got you, you're fine, you're just fine. The tractor beam it can scramble your head a little. As if she had only just noticed him-although, through shock, she probably _had_ only just noticed him- she said, "Hello."

"Hello."

High pitched, but quietly, she repeated, "Hello." She shook her head apologising, still Jack noted, slightly breathlessly.

"Are you alright?" He smiled.

"Fine." She spoke with a slight stutter. "Were you expecting me to faint or something?"

"You look a little dizzy."

She sounded slightly hysterical, "What about you? You're not even in focus."

He chuckled, before catching her as she collapsed and carrying her off.

--------

Thirteen minutes later she found him, "Sleeping beauty awakes." He muttered softly to himself. Out loud he asked, "Better now?"

"You got lights in here?"

He reached up and flicked them on. "Hello."

"Hello."

"Hello."

The laughed, slurring slightly over her words, "Lets, lets not start that again."

"Okay."

--------

After several hours of flirting, and suspicion. Jack felt slightly foolish, "_I can spot a Time Agent miles away_." Maybe they hadn't sent anyone after him. And he had tried to sell the Chula twice, once to the human and the second time to a "Time Agent" and "Spock". Now he was explaining himself to Spock surrounded by gas masked humans.

"Oh, I give up." He pressed the teleport button. "I'll get you out of there myself." He was sitting in his chair. "God, this is comfy."

----------

Weatherly lay his back against a tree trunk, flicking out his psychic paper. On it read the last message from the Time Agency.

_**J. Weatherly,**_

_**You are hereby barred from the 51**__**st**__** Century. If you return without --------- ---------- and his watch, you will be executed, your family will be fined. Your family allowance has been cut through a failure to report while under a low-classified assignment. **_

_**Failure to report in two months will cause a Government reclaim of your pension.**_

_**Miles Kinhytiolpk**_

"How am I _fucking_ meant to report when you've banned me?" He hissed. "And since when were we meant to _report_ in while on a low-class mission."

_If you could do me a favour even if you don't review and check out my poll that would be handy to me for the future of this fic._


	5. Death Or Not?

_Disclaimer: Let's see, who don't I own in this chapter? The Chulan computer, Jack (obviously), the Ninth Doctor, Rose, Mrs McGinty's Dead, Harry Potter, the TARDIS, the Daleks, Charles Dickens, Solomon, Ellis Island... Wait, I don't own Torchwood either.... Or it's best known anagram. _

_Who do I own? Drunk dude, 21__st__ Century Britain: The Lingo and the Signs, the Rock That Trips Up Jack, and the mentioned "May"_

_A/N: This chapter is dedicated to a disgruntled __**Tiva4evaxxx**__ (who claims that the last chapter of one of my other fics should have been dedicated to her-better Emily?- and she needs to UD cause she's only UDed her fantastic writing once in the past two weeks) and _**moonchild94**_ (whose brilliant writing and rambling have been keeping me sane)._

"I think we better initiate security protocol 147." A full glass materialised Jack took it and began rambling at the Chulan computer.

Shocked he watched as a blue box warped in, "Now that is retro."

He jumped into it.

-------

Jack put a set of reading glasses out of his pocket, kicking his feet onto a chair. He was feeling left out, Rose was sleeping, the seventh Harry Potter_, The Deathly Hallows_, lying open on her chest, the Doctor also with his feet kicked up sat reading _Mrs McGinty's Dead, _he let out a sudden cackle of laughter, "Agatha Christie is a genius, Jack. Have you read this?" he returned to his book without an answer. Jack opened up his book, _21__st__ Century Britain: The Lingo and the Signs_.

He was finally at home.

------

The execution squad arrived, plungers and whisks sliding towards him, in futile Jack fired at them, "Doctor, You've got twenty seconds _maximum_." He continued firing, backing away, his main gun ran out of ammo, from his waist he removed a handgun, he knew it was useless but he might as well keep it up, they would not find his body with working weaponry upon it.

When he finally had no arsenal left, Jack threw down the gun, he straightened his head, looking into the cold blue stalk, he saw his death coming, clearer than ever before. He grimaced.

"Exterminate."

"I kinda figured that." He opened his arms, _Bring it on_, he thought. A flash of white light burst across his vision.

Jack woke with a painful intake of breath. Every part of his body, inside and out ached. In front of him, the dusty remains of the Daleks lay. Suddenly, Jack heard an all too familiar sound, the TARDIS, and it was leaving without him.

Jack stood watching in disbelief and anger as yet another home left him behind. "That is not fair." He looked at his wrist. "... Cardiff.... I need to get to Cardiff."

----------

Jack ran into a man on a snow ridden street in Cardiff. He had been yelling out maniacally, only a few seconds after Jack had heard a familiar sound ring through the air. Putting two and one together, Jack assumed the answer was....

"Merry Christmas." The man shouted in his face, drowning any thought Jack might have been capable of.

"Hi, hello, um, can you tell me....? Did you see a... a blue box?" Jack was slightly breathless. "A blue box?"

"Yes, a splendid sight." The man smiled clapping him on the shoulder, "Have a good Christmas."

As the man staggered off, drunk on pleasure, Jack cursed. "Doctor you better not have been my Doctor. If you were..." Jack wasn't sure what he would do.

_Two months later..._

Some lager, Jack could no longer remember what it was, he had been drinking almost non-stop for a month now, dribbled down his chin. He was in the middle of a two sided conversation with another man at the bar. The man leered... And when I shee him, I'm going to take shis bottle and stab him through..." It was the twentieth time he had slurred it that night, "... they shay he's dead, but I shaw him yesterday..."

The man's head drooped down, Jack oblivious to this replied, "The Doctor. He'll be able to fix me...When the Doctor.... it'll all be put right... He'll need to fuel at some point..."

The man drooled, "... Gently, May, we don't want to shquash the potatoes..."

"... you wait 'til I see the Doctor. First I'm going to kiss him," Jack smashed his glass, ignoring the wounds on his hand, "and then I'm going to kill him."

"... I need more carrot-shh.... May, you bum, where are my shprouts..?"

----------

"I'm in New York?" Jack asked, confused. A small boy leaned over him.

"Yes sir. Ellis Island. You was shot, and chucked into this gutter."

"Right. So I was." Jack still appeared puzzled. He touched the skin over his heart, where he had felt the bullet enter and the blood still lay, red on his shirt. "Why was I on Ellis Island?"

"You _are_ on Ellis Island."

"I know... Look, kid, what's your name?"

"Solomon, I live in New York City, but my da has business here."

"Right. Solomon, I need to know where the nearest place is where I can make a transatlantic telegraph from. Can you do that?" Jack removed a dollar coin from his pocket, Solomon's dark eyes widened. "Yes, sir. Follow me."

"Yessir." Jack grinned, coming back to himself steadily.

-----------

Jack stood, his toes wrapped over the limestone cliff's edge. It was a calm night, the sea lapped gently against the impressive silhouette that Jack stood upon. "Easy, Jack. This is probably not a good idea. Maybe it was just a fluke.... I'll do it some other time." He turned away from the cliff intending to walk back to Cardiff, and return to the bottle. Jack abruptly tripped, a rock slid out under him, the next thing he knew he was falling down the side of a cliff. His life did not flash before his eyes.

"Well, that's sh-" He splattered onto the rocks below.

Vomit erupted from Jack's mouth as he came around.

"Right... yuck... I can't even commit suicide. Perfect."

He stood up unsteadily, straightening his sodden shirt.

"Just perfect."


End file.
